


Midnight

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Post-Sirius in Azkaban, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 20:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5942608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus muses on his past and his future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

I learned long ago that there are nights when it is no use to try and court sleep. No matter how weary I am, slumber will not come. Lying in bed only makes it worse or, at least, it seems worse. Tonight was one of those nights. Sirius and I had gone to bed about 10 o'clock. He'd made love to me, cuddled me close and gone right to sleep. Two hours later I was still awake, tired but restless.

Sirius didn't stir as I slipped out of bed, found my robe and slippers, and tiptoed downstairs. He's sleeping better these days. The nightmares are all but gone and he is only rarely bothered by insomnia. Ever since we decided to get married, it's like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He's so happy and full of plans for the future.

There's milk in the kitchen that I could heat up. That often helps me sleep or the book Harry gave me for my birthday sitting on the table in the living room. I've only started reading it. I could light the lamp and curl up on the sofa with it for an hour or two. Neither thought quite appeals besides I know why I'm restless tonight. Instead my feet carry me to the den.

When Sirius was trying to persuade me to move in, the den was one of his enticements. Not that it was needed, I would have lived with him anywhere but it is nice to have my own space. Harry claims Sirius fussed over it for days before he was satisfied that I would like it. The walls are lined with shelves that hold all my books and knickknacks. My desk is in one end and there is a comfortable chair and a small table at the other end near the fireplace. It's warm and cozy, the perfect place to read, study and work.

On the desk, in the center, is a neat bundle of papers. I ought to have owled it to Felix as soon as I finished, he's been after me to send it along. A lifetime of work, study and experience have gone into those pages. It took me years to write, months to revise and days to copy it out in my neatest hand.

My friends had always teased me about writing the definitive textbook for Defense Against The Dark Arts. Most of the books we used in school were either out-of-date, inaccurate, contradictory or just plain boring. When I complained, someone would say, "Moony, if you don't like the book then write better one." It was a joke of sorts but Peter once said that if any of us were going to write a book then ought to be me. He'd meant it seriously and I had been pleased by the compliment.

I'd forgotten about it though, after school. Life was too full with work and Sirius and the escalating war with Voldemort and his followers. Then, when things went so bad, there was even less time to think about writing.

I was alone for the first time in my life, hurt, betrayed and grieving. I had never known how protected I was from the harshness of real life until I was forced to make a go of it without any help. Those first years had been horrible. My parents had always provided for me and then Sirius had. Not that I needed much financially, during the war I'd actually been earning good money.

That all changed when Sirius was sent to Azkaban. While I had been cleared of any charges, very few people were willing to hire the known associate of Sirius Black. Being a werewolf didn't help things any. For the first time in my life I knew hunger, poverty and prejudice.

My parents would have taken me back. My father had made it quite clear that if I sent word, he would come and fetch me home. The thought of returning to that cold house and their emotional blackmail made the poverty easier to take. I might be poor but at least I was free of them and their efforts to keep me repressed and ashamed.

There were other offers of help that were more appealing. Friends wrote offering me a help and shelter. Several were from abroad, offering the possibility that I might eventually find work teaching. The attitude towards werewolves is a great deal more tolerant in some countries then in England. There were times when I was tempted. If it hadn't seemed too much like failure, I might have gone. Besides, I didn't want to be dependent on anyone ever again; not my parents, not my lover, and not my friends.

I managed but it was only just barely. There was never enough money or enough time. I worked myself into exhaustion, made do with what I had and did without whenever I could. Those were hard years but I'm proud of them. I might have never known what I was capable of doing if I hadn't had to endure those trials.

I started writing mostly as an extra source of income. Papers and periodicals might not have been willing to have a werewolf on their staff but they would pay for freelance submissions. A scroll or two on Jarveys or a few paragraphs on hexes might mean that I could afford to eat three square meals instead of one or get a pair of boots, that desperately needed it, resoled.

That's how I met Felix. He had asked me for an article on common curses and their countermeasures and was appalled to discover how little I was expecting to be paid for it. He quickly appointed himself my agent and I began to do a little better. Even with his percent, I was making more money then I had before.

I wrote a lot during my one year teaching at Hogwarts, and after. Even during the worst of the fighting I usually managed to send something along every few weeks. News from the front line mostly, but they still paid for it.

It wasn't until Sirius invited me to live with him and Harry that I thought a book would be possible. Felix and I had talked about it once or twice and he had been enthusiastic. However, without saving to live on during the writing of it, we both knew it was impossible. He tried several times to get me an advance, but no publisher would entrust a werewolf with that kind of money.

Living with Sirius is very inexpensive. We both prefer a quiet, simple life. He owns the house free and clear, so there's no need for rent. If I couldn't afford to contribute as much for expenses as he did, there were other ways. I managed to take over most of the chores. I'd have ended up doing all the cooking and laundry anyhow, and it made me feel like I was earning my share.

There were expenses, but I could generally cover them with an article or two a month and still have plenty of time to work on the book. Of course, this meant there wasn't much left for extras, like a new wardrobe. I replaced a few robes that were worn past mending but mostly I continued to make do.

Sirius hates this. He's offered, several times, to buy me some new clothes but I've always refused. It might be silly, but I want to provide for myself. Buy my own clothes, not accept them as a gift from an indulgent lover. To be his equal in this relationship, not his dependent as I was before. I don't think he understands really. As far as he's concerned, we were always equals. I don't blame him, that's how I saw it too, until I was forced to learn how much I'd been relying on him.

If the book sells, and Felix is sure it will sell, then there will be plenty of money for everything I need. I'll be able to buy new robes and indulge in the little luxuries I've done without. I'll be able to pay my way without fretting and support myself while I work on the next book. I may even get more money for my articles. Felix says the author of a book commands a higher price then the writer for a few magazines.

Maybe that's why I'm so scared. That bundle isn't just my past, it's my future. If it doesn't do well, if it's never published, what happens to me?

"Can't sleep?" My lover's voice is low and husky. He's leaning against the door frame, wrapped in his bathrobe, watching me with worried eyes.

"No." I admit quietly. "I've been restless. You?"

"I woke up and you weren't there." He tells me as if that explains everything. Maybe it does for him. He comes in and perches on the edge of the desk. "What's this you're brooding over?" He asks, touching the pile of parchment.

"Something I've been working on for a while now." I tell him. We've never really talked about this. He knows that I've been writing a book but I've never said anything about why I was doing it.

"You're book? Have you finished it then?" He asks.

"Yes." I tell him. "You've been reading it?" I ask suddenly. I know he and Harry sometimes read my articles before I sent them off to Felix.

"Yeah." He admitted with a smile. "Harry and always I read everything you write. This is really good. Do you want me to take you to London tomorrow to give it to Felix?"

"That would be nice." I tell him with a smile. Maybe it was good. It would sell and I would finally be able to achieve my dreams. I would be able to come to Sirius as an equal partner. Capable of making a life together with him as his spouse, not his supplicant.

Sirius leaned over and cupped my cheek, lifting my face to the light.

"You're half frozen." He fussed. "Come upstairs where it's warm, I'll make you some tea."

"In a minute." I murmur, guiding his lips to mine. He's warm against me and I shiver when he finally pulls back.

"Come to bed." He entreats me softly and I make no demur. We'll go up and make love and tomorrow I'll bring the manuscript to Felix. He'll arrange to have it published and then the excitement will really begin. As long as I have Sirius I know I can't fail.


End file.
